


Figure It Out

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 18:58:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9002746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Sooo,” Hunk says, leaning his arms on the back of the couch. “You kissed Lance?” 

  Keith sighs. “Yes.” 

  Hunk nods. “Mmhmm. Mmhmm. Okay. He thinks you were trying out some alien fighting technique.”
Klance getting-together fic, as a Voltron Secret Santa gift for lymne.





	

It takes Keith a long time to figure it out, but it takes Lance even longer, which is so stupid that Keith doesn’t push it. He wants to see how long it takes. 

As it turns out, it takes approximately a thousand years. That’s how it feels, anyway, every time Lance stands a little too close, every time he throws his arm around Keith’s shoulder and jabs him in the chest, every time Lance tries to pick a fight by getting  _right up_ in Keith’s space, so close that it would be very, very easy for Keith to tilt his face in and kiss him. 

In fact, it takes so long that Keith begins to wonder if he’s actually misreading it. 

“Oh, no,” Pidge says, laughing, when he tentatively broaches the topic with her. “He’s got _issues._ And by issues, I mean, yeah. He’d go there. What, do you like him?”

Keith leans back in his chair, mulling it over. He guesses that he does, since he’s brought it up out loud at all. “He’s annoying,” he says. “And arrogant.”

“Wow, can’t imagine who else that describes.”

Keith ignores her. “And,” he says, “I mean, if it makes him be less annoying…”

Pidge laughs. “Alright,” she says. “Whatever you say.” The machine gives a little beep and Pidge turns back to it, sliding her tools over. The conversation, Keith knows, is over. 

It’s cinched something in him. 

*

Keith is training, sparring with holographic robots, when Lance comes in, for no apparent reason other than to heckle him. He’s cradling a bowl of space goop and eating it in messy spoonfuls between sarcastic comments and snickering. When Keith winds up knocked on his ass, Lance hoots so loud that it echoes in the room, and that _does_ it. He’s done.

Keith snaps, “Simulation off!” 

“Aw, don’t be a sore loser, Keith,” Lance says. “It was just getting fun!”

Keith pushes himself up, brushes himself off, and flicks his bayard, retracting the sword. “Fine,” he says. “Fine!” He stomps over – it’s kind of funny, seeing the way Lance tenses with shock, the surprise of an unexpected reaction. He wants to say, _isn’t this what you wanted?_ – but he elects not to speak. Instead, he grabs Lance by the scruff of his shirt, pushes him up against the wall, and covers his smug mouth with his. 

“Barnacles, Keith!” Lance blurts out. His face is a brilliant red, glowing hotly. He gapes at Keith, opening and shutting his mouth. “You – I – that…!” 

At least Keith knows, now, that it’s possible to make Lance speechless. He lets go, and turns toward the door. “Do whatever you’re going to do,” he says. It’s a challenge, and he hopes Lance will take it as one.

He steps out. 

*

“Sooo,” Hunk says, leaning his arms on the back of the couch. “You kissed Lance?” 

Keith sighs. “Yes.” 

Hunk nods. “Mmhmm. Mmhmm. Okay. He thinks you were trying out some alien fighting technique.”

“Lance is an idiot,” Keith says. 

“I corrected him,” Hunk says. “But he’s kinda…” He shrugs.

“An idiot,” Keith says. He swipes his finger across the holopad, turning the page of the book he’s reading – piloting techniques for Unoan warriors, surprisingly interesting although the species has been wiped out. 

Hunk doesn’t want to agree, but his silence speaks for him. He drops on the couch. “He’ll figure it out,” he says. “And, uh, good luck, man.”

*

“Lance! Focus!” Shiro snaps. 

“I _am_ focused! Yell at Keith, _he’s_ the one who’s not focused!” 

Pidge and Hunk groan, and Shiro sighs, and Keith strongly considers grabbing Lance by the arm and kissing him again, just to make a point. 

“Fine,” Shiro says. “ _Everyone_ focus.” 

Lance glances at Keith; when he sees that Keith is watching him, he blushes, and ducks his head, and begins to sweat.

Keith smiles.

*

It takes Lance two more days to finally approach Keith. He comes to Keith’s room, of all places, which is a surprise – there’s a knock on the door, and then it slides open, and Lance is there, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Hey,” he says.

Keith swings his feet off his bed and leans his elbows on his knees. His heart picks up speed; his stomach begins to twist. “Hey,” Keith says.

“So…so, you…” Lance clears his throat, clearly frustrated with himself, and tries again, jamming his arm against the door frame and crossing his legs in a way that he seems to think makes him look cocky and interesting instead of a sweaty dork. “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” he says.

Keith blinks at him. “Nothing,” he says. “I was reading.” 

“Oh my god,” Lance says. “ _Why did it have to be you?”_ He steps into the room and starts to pace; the door slides shut. Lance runs his hands through his hair, pulling at it; he’s blushing again, a look that Keith likes more and more, the more he sees it. “You have a mullet,” he says, “and you’re – you’re the _worst,_ and you _still_ don’t get it, and you…” He stops. “You’re _Keith!”_

“And you’re Lance,” Keith says.

They stare at each other. 

Then, Lance lunges for him, knocking him back on the bed, and kisses him. It’s kind of painful, an awkward and scrambled thing, Lance’s forehead knocking into his, Lance’s teeth scraping at Keith’s mouth. He’s knocked Keith over so Keith’s head is angled against the wall, a position that’s going to get uncomfortable _incredibly_ fast if they don’t move. And he’s _bony,_ his knees digging hard into Keith’s side.

It’s better than Keith could’ve ever imagined. 

“Ow-ow,” Lance hisses, pulling back. “Okay, that _might’ve_ been a little overkill.” 

“Yeah,” Keith says. He cups the back of Lance’s head and pulls him back down – this time, the kiss is gentler, a slow, sucking thing. Lance makes a soft noise in the back of his throat; his hands slide up Keith’s chest. 

Slowly, their mouths open against each other, a tentative exploration. Warmth spools through Keith’s body, steady, comforting. It feels right, in a way the bickering never quite had, in a way he couldn’t have ever imagined. Lance’s slim weight feels like it belongs, here, hot and fluid on him; his lips slot against his like they were made to slide there.

Keith wonders, dimly, how it took them this long. 

Then, Lance’s tongue flicks into his mouth, and he doesn’t wonder anything for a long, long time. 


End file.
